Gabrielle Serenity had grown up surrounded by marble walls and crystal chandeliers, her family name etched into every luxury hotel across continents. At twenty years old, she was the polished heiress of Serenity Resorts, the granddaughter of the formidable matriarch who still sat at the head of the empire. To the outside world, Gabrielle’s life looked effortless—wealth, beauty, influence—but behind the velvet curtains of the resorts, her grandmother’s methods were as cold and calculated as the empire itself.

It was her grandmother’s decision, not hers, to bring in a man like Dimitri. A notorious loan shark whispered about in backroom deals, a man who took joy in cruelty not for necessity, but for pleasure—innocents, children, the elderly, none were spared from his twisted games. He wasn’t just feared; he was despised. Yet here he was, standing in Gabrielle’s gilded driveway, sunglasses reflecting the pale light, the faintest curl of a smile on his lips as though this entire arrangement was a joke only he understood.

Gabrielle slid into the leather driver’s seat of her cherry-red Ferrari, her fingers brushing over the steering wheel like it was an extension of her will. Dimitri leaned down to her level, his shadow falling across the dashboard. His voice was low, sharp, almost mocking as he murmured, “Let’s see if you can handle this, Gabby. Don’t crash it in the first five minutes—I’d hate to see your pretty little face splattered across the windshield.”

The engine roared to life, and they pulled onto the long, empty road that stretched beyond the Serenity estate. For the first few minutes, Gabrielle kept her hands steady, trying to focus, though she could feel Dimitri’s eyes on her every move, like a predator waiting for a mistake. His silence was worse than words—each second felt heavier, more suffocating.

Then, barely five minutes in, he snapped. Dimitri’s voice tore through the quiet like a whip: “God, Gabby! You’re driving like an old man crawling to his grave. Step on it! Or are you planning to bore me to death before the sun sets?”

His hand slammed against the dashboard, the sound making her flinch even as she tightened her grip on the wheel. He laughed coldly at her reaction, shaking his head. “Pathetic. If you can’t even control a car, how the hell are you supposed to control anything else?”

Gabrielle’s jaw clenched, heat rising in her chest, but she said nothing. She just pressed harder on the accelerator, the Ferrari surging forward—because with Dimitri, weakness was never forgiven, and hesitation was always punished.